


Morning Blossoms

by parsley_sage_rosemary_and_thyme4tea



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23683396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parsley_sage_rosemary_and_thyme4tea/pseuds/parsley_sage_rosemary_and_thyme4tea
Summary: Harry wakes up and smells the roses
Kudos: 3





	Morning Blossoms

It was Saturday and Harry had slept in, the exhaustion from too many nights spent tossing and turning having caught up with him. The sun was streaming through the curtains and a bird was perched outside the window, chirping far too cheerily for Harry’s mood. He felt disoriented; where was everybody? before realising it was the weekend, and apparently well into the hours of the morning when people would be milling about in the Common Room and Great Hall. Harry felt leaden and completely unequipped to interact with anyone. While he was grateful that Hermione wasn’t shunning him, the absence of Ron’s friendship made the blow of having to compete in the Triwizard Tournament all the more extreme. He felt certain he’d be able to handle it, if he had Ron’s support. Sighing deeply, he buried his face back in his pillow, thinking he might as well spend all day in bed. The sound of tentative footsteps reached his ears and he didn’t lift his head, hoping they’d ignore him and leave, but then he was being addressed very softly, by a voice that he’d never heard sound so nervous. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and blinked at the blurry figure of George, who was standing a short distance away from his bed.

“George?” he croaked confusedly. “Wha-” his voice cracked and he licked his lips; he needed water. “What are you doing here?”

George looked endearingly earnest and apologetic.

“Sorry - I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t, don’t worry.”

“Oh, good.”

George paused and Harry couldn’t figure out what could be causing him such anxiety.

“I, uh, just wanted you to know that…well, Ron’ll come around.”

Harry’s heart sank at the reminder and he sagged slightly.

George hastened to continue, “It’s bloody frustrating how he’s been treating you since you were picked. Fred reckons we should let him come to the right conclusion on his own, though, so we’re giving him time. But, just know: Fred and I - we’ve always got your back.”

Harry nodded stiffly, his jaw tight, as his eyes stung with painful tears. Wiping them away, he heard George mutter, “Orchideous”. When he looked up again, George was holding out a bouquet of flowers.

“Are - are these…for me?”

George nodded, his cheeks reddening. Harry accepted the flowers, which, curiously, were not the small white variety Ollivander had produced when performing the same spell, but roses, in soft afternoon shades of brown and pink, all somehow imbued with the personality of orange. Harry closed his eyes and breathed them in...they smelled like the Burrow, and simmered with the life force of George’s magic, which skipped lightly across all his senses - a tinkling bell, signaling the arrival of - mischief, and discovery - feathers, Floo, and fierce support.

Harry felt rejuvenated and incredibly grateful. Opening his eyes, he smiled at George, collected his glasses and put them on so he could see George’s face clearly as he told him, hoping the sincerity and gratitude he felt came across, “Thank you.”

George smiled, and Harry was relieved to see him relaxed once more as he replied, “You’re welcome.”

<https://www.instagram.com/p/B9m0YXEKXUj/?igshid=vtyf4fbo7es5>

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to write this ficlet after seeing this lovely illustration by @alek.dar on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/p/B9m0YXEKXUj/?igshid=vtyf4fbo7es5


End file.
